To Andrew: So this isn't fact yet but someday it will be . . .

Rosalie

We were in my Jeep, heading back to my apartment before the Winterhawks game, when he asked me the question that made me question whether he had a fast track to my thought processes.

"Why do you get that faraway look in your eyes whenever I talk to you?"

How could I possibly explain that when he spoke, with that incredibly sinfully hot voice, all I could think of was getting him into bed, Gone with the Wind-style?

"Uh, I'm just thinking," I hedged. "About things."

Emmett threw his head back and laughed. I gripped the wheel tighter and tried to force my mind back to some sane place, but unfortunately it went right back to the gutter.

"You like the accent, don't you?"

I blushed, a fierce hot crimson. "Yes," I confessed. "It's incredibly hot."

A conniving, yet adorable, expression passed over his face. "Does this mean all I have to do to get you in bed is talk dirty to you? Croon sweet nothings in your ear?"

I hardly wanted to admit he was right, but in truth, he was. In fact, he might not even have to do that to get me just where he wanted me. I was so crazy about him that I'd do just about anything for him—and just about anything to make him happy.

And that's why I couldn't lie to him. "Yeah, I guess that's pretty much accurate." I tried to force the blush down, but I turned bright cyclamen regardless of any wishing or hoping or praying on my part.

Emmett reached out to capture my hand, and he brought it to his lips, brushing a kiss over my skin. "I love how you blush, and believe me, I think you're not a blusher, normally."

"I'm not."

"That makes it even better. I think I'm going to make it a goal of mine to get you to blush as much as possible when I'm here."

"Obviously it isn't hard for you," I told him, stifling back my giggles. He was so irreverent and different and natural. Completely opposite of every man I'd ever dated, and somehow that made him completely right. I felt more like myself with him than I'd felt with anyone else or even when I was alone. I'd never believed that the right person could bring out the best in you, but Emmett certainly seemed to do that with me.

"I'm not even trying," he laughed.

I pulled into the parking space in front of my townhouse, and turned off the car. "Well, here we are," I said brightly, trying to hide my sudden nerves behind a wall of bright cheerfulness. I knew that I liked him, but what if Emmett decided he didn't like me? I was hardly lacking in self-confidence, and I'd never had a man turn me down before, but I was suddenly wracked with self-doubt and fear over his reaction to me.

I opened the door, but before I could step out, Emmett caught me again by the hand and held me inside. "Rosalie," he murmured, and pulled me towards him, grazing his lips over mine. "You know that I feel like I've been waiting my whole life for you. I'm not going to decide you disgust me. I promise."

His lips drifted more firmly against mine, and I responded. Soon, I was nearly crawling over the central console in my need to be closer and closer to him. His hands were all over me and nothing had ever felt so good in my entire life.

He was the one who broke the kiss. "Inside," he rasped. His composure was clearly broken and I loved to see him as desperate for me as I was for him.

We got inside the townhouse as fast as we could, before he tackled me again, or even worse, I tackled him. I gave him a quick tour, while wringing my hands nervously. The tour ended in my bedroom, and I tried to look anywhere but at the big bed that dominated the room.

In a nod to all my fantasies, I'd actually gone and bought a bunch of ruffled white sheets and a comforter, and a bunch of pillows. My bed looked like the Antebellum South on steroids.

"Rosalie, look at me," he ordered, and I glanced up at him to see him looking almost sternly at me. "If you want to wait, we can. You have to know I'd wait forever for you."

"I know," I said so quietly I wasn't sure he could actually hear. Never had I been so scared before having sex, even the first time. With Emmett, it felt like that first time rolled up with the most important test I'd ever taken. I knew I'd never be able to forgive myself if I messed this up.

And then we were facing off before the bed, just like we had in a million of my fantasies. I wondered who would make the first move and prayed it wouldn't have to be me.

Like he'd read my mind again, Emmett dropped his bags on the floor, and without his eyes leaving mine, he began to unbutton his dark blue shirt. Following his lead, I stepped out of my shoes, and pulled off the blue and white striped shirt I wore. He had a white undershirt on underneath, and I watched the play of his muscles underneath the cotton as he leaned over to untie his shoes.

Shoes and socks gone, he stood there just in a white shirt and jeans, a Southern wet dream come to life. Tremulously, with his dark blue eyes encouraging me, I stripped off the white tank top I still wore, and watched as his eyes drank in my skin and the white lace bra I still wore.

He quickly pulled off his own shirt and gathered me into his arms. "Rosalie," he whispered, "you're so beautiful. I wouldn't have cared if you were ugly as a crone, but it's certainly nice that you're gorgeous."

I laughed and kissed him. We tumbled onto the bed together, and he smoothed the hair away from my face before bending down to ravish my mouth again with his.

We kissed for a long time, barely pausing for breath, and it was like learning each other from the first kiss until the more physical aspects of the relationship all at once. I didn't mind—we'd already covered all the emotional and verbal steps that a couple passed through before sleeping together. We just hadn't been able to indulge in one single physical gesture, so now we indulged in all of them, at once.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, Emmett reached for the button on my jeans. I put my hand on his, and he stopped. He looked up at me, startled.

"I have a surprise for you," I told him, surprised at how shyly I was saying this. After all, I was Rosalie Hale, the enchanting temptress that had lured dozens of men to their death without a single tear. And now, here I was blushing and stammering and shy, reduced to this by a man who had already captured my heart and my soul.

I slid off the bed, encouraged by Emmett's fascinated expression. Slowly, I unbuttoned, then unzipped, and finally lowered my jeans. I knew from the look of dumfounded wonder that had fallen over his face that I'd done something very, very right.

He cleared his throat and his hands pulled me toward him. "Rosie, darlin', how did you know I would love those?"

I nearly smirked at the possessive way his fingers were digging into my thighs, like he couldn't bear to ever let me go, because he hadn't even seen the best part of these panties yet.

I turned around and was gratified to hear his sharp intake of breath. At first I hadn't been sure if Emmett would like these, but they made me feel pretty, and after all, I'd hadn't known if he would even see them or not.

Really, I'd told myself as I'd dressed this morning, I was wearing these ridiculous white lace bow panties because I felt more confident when I was dressed well inside and out—but I knew I'd been lying to myself then.

I'd known that we'd fall into bed almost from the minute we saw each other and I wanted something on that would blow his mind.

And right now, from the lust darkening his eyes, I could tell his mind was definitely blown. I gave me and Victoria's Secret a mental high five.

"Come 'ere," Emmett murmured, pulling me onto the bed while his fingertips traced the white floppy bow that rested right over my ass. "These are the god damn hottest things I've ever seen."

I raised an eyebrow. "You mean you like bows?"

"Hell yes I do. I didn't know it until now, but I think I'm a new convert." Emmett lifted me as easily as if I were a feather and tucked me beneath him.

"And now," he continued, "you've got yourself a man who wants you bad."

I giggled a little helplessly as his hands finally disappeared underneath me and unhooked my bra. His hands, large and just a tiny bit rough, smoothed the lace fabric away and settled onto my skin.

He touched me like I was his most precious possession, yet like he couldn't wait a moment longer to know me completely. His tongue curled around one of my exposed nipples, and he slid his hands down my stomach, caressing and teasing me in expanding circles.

By the time he reached my now-soaked white lace panties, I was gasping for air. There was something incredibly sexy about his deliberate, slow and precision travel down my body—like he'd imagined doing it in his head a million times.

And as if on cue, Emmett murmured to me, "God, baby, I can't even tell how many times I've pictured you just like this."

I sighed happily and lifted my hips up, trying to coming into contact with those amazing hands. "Please, baby," I whimpered. "I need you."

"I'm not ready yet," he soothed. "I need more of you."

Carefully, he peeled off my panties and spread my legs open. I heard him hiss and I smiled a little, before he bent his head down and swiped his tongue up my dripping wet slit, ending just before my clit.

"Emmett," I panted, "please."

Unfortunately he continued to tease me, nibbling and licking everywhere but where I wanted him to the most. By the time he finally did, wrapping his tongue around my clit, I was nearly incoherent with lust and my vision was hazy with pleasure.

"Rosalie," he mumbled right into my pussy, "I want you to come for me right now." I felt the impending orgasm approach and I knew that even if he hadn't asked I would have come right there, but having him demand it of me brought it on harder and faster.

"Ohmigod," I screamed out as I came hard. "Sooooo good." The world blacked with the violence of my spasms and a minute later when I opened my eyes, Emmett was leaning over me, smiling, and his face tight with what had to be lust.

"Need you now," he ground out and I reached down to free him from his jeans, only to discover that they were already mostly unbuttoned and well. . .it seemed that my man didn't like either the hassle of boxers or the constrictions of briefs. He preferred to go commando. If I hadn't already decided I loved him, then I knew I did now.

I also loved the way he groaned and the tendons of his neck tightened when I grasped the base of his cock and began to stroke him.

"No," he nearly growled. "You can't do that," he said, shedding his jeans and removing my hand reluctantly. "You do that and I'm going to come right now."

I shrugged a little and smirked. "Not a bad thing in my opinion."

"No," he insisted. "Do I need a condom?"

My jaw dropped as he single-mindedly positioned himself at my still-pulsing entrance. I arched against him and shook my head briefly. "On the shot," I moaned loudly as he slid inside me.

I discovered quickly that not only was Emmett's personality seemingly designed for me, but his cock was too. It fit like it had been made for me, and I groaned, thrusting up to meet his firm strokes.

"So good," Emmett groaned and just the sound of his voice, with him inside me just like I'd pictured a thousand times in my head, made me come hard again, convulsing around his hard cock.

"God, Rosalie," he ground out as he threw his head back and joined me.

He collapsed next to me on the bed and I immediately latched onto him, resting my head on his chest and feeling like I never wanting the feeling of his skin on mine to disappear.

Emmett stroked my hair back from my face and I couldn't even remember the last time I'd felt this cherished. Oh, that's right. I never had. Just this one small facet of his personality made me one hundred percent sure that I never wanted to be without him ever again.

It was only then that I remembered the undeniable fact that shaped our relationship. I never wanted to live without him and we lived on separate coasts of the United States. The hideousness of the situation was finally beginning to really sink into my consciousness, and before I could stop it, a tear drifted down my cheek and dripped onto Emmett's bare chest.

And of course, because we were us, I didn't have to even explain what I was so suddenly sad about. He knew.

"I know, darlin'," Emmett said resignedly. "It really blows. But I promise we'll figure it out this week. We do have a whole four days to decide what to do."

I knew he was right, but I hated the fact that during these four days of what was going to be undoubtedly bliss, I'd have the decision of what to do with the rest of our lives hanging over my head. But if that's what I had to do to have Emmett, I'd do it. In fact, I'd probably do a lot more—but he didn't have to know that. At least not yet.

AN: Thank Andrew who didn't want me to end this yet. I debated and debated, but there will be more. . .I promise!